~ of Sarah Marie Bacavis

Annette likes to find treasures. A treasure can be anything from a giant stick in the yard to a box from the recycling. Those are the good treasures that Mom and Dad approve of. But those are not Annette’s favorite treasures. No, the greatest of treasures are the ones that once belonged to us. (I say once belonged, because she’s pretty clear about who she thinks the new owner is).

I could write a bunch of funny anecdotes about her obsession with playing keep-away with her treasures, but I’ve been collecting photos for just this occasion! I think they tell the story perfectly:

Oh that red clown nose? Mine, clearly mine. Dad’s underwear? Yep, need those. Stinky socks? You mean aged-to-perfection socks… mine now! The pajama shorts you just put in the hamper? I’ll take those. Your flip phone? What do you mean you were still getting contacts off of it? I need to make a call and tell Dad to buy me more treats!

This photo really captures the essence of this post perfectly: three children and a grown man all trying to wrangle a dachshund who’s trying desperately to eat a plastic toy before someone can stop her. She had all of them squealing like scaredy cats with her brilliant doberman impression. She can really growl when treasure is at stake!

This has been a hotter than average summer, and dealing with the heat and no AC makes daytime-me a grouchy recluse who spends all her time awaiting the crisp air of autumn! Fortunately, the evenings and mornings are cool and I’ve been able to spend them creating things, writing my book, and spending time with friends in the park next door. (Hey, did you catch that? I wrote a book! You should go read about it here: Beyond the Bramble.

I’ve been doing a fair amount of sewing and accessory making. More and more of my closet is made up of my own creations and vintage clothing. I have this concept of a very theatrical, vaudevillian 1920s look for fall time, so I’m creating the pieces for that look. Crazy hats and velvet capes fit the bill nicely. I’ve even been working without a pattern (the cape and the blouse were made sans pattern) and trying to use up all the small yards of material I still have.

I like making aprons because they’re quick to whip up and they protect the clothing I make, since I am a messy cook and artist. The Egyptian apron in the second photo was a wedding gift for my new sister-in-law.

It’s been mentioned a few times that the exploits and antics of our nine-month-old Dachshund, Annette Skywalker Bacavis, would make for hilarious stories on their own. I can’t disagree with this fact; she is a riot and a half! So where better to tell such stories than my all-too-vacant blog?

I ran the idea past Annette this evening and she pointed out that my content is so infrequent and random already, that her reoccurring guest spot could only increase readership. Or it was something like that. Honestly, she was more interested in the increase of dog treats and toys. This is how I pay her royalties.

As I type this now, my husband is walking around the apartment telling the dog, “I’m ignoring you–you will not bark and bite at me!”. She’s following him and making it very clear that “You will not ignore me when I bite and bark at you! You will not!”

Don’t get the wrong idea about Nettie; she’s not aggressive or even snappy. She usually only bites when she has to go poop (does this mean she’s anal retentive?). We can’t solve the mystery of the pre-poop biting. She’s also a very quiet dog, unless she’s having a conversation with us. She only barks when she feels she has suffered a great injustice, like not being the center of attention every waking moment. She’s just a little crabby right now because she’s been two weeks in the cone of shame after her Luxating Patella surgery. Her active lifestyle has slowed down while she recovers, so she’s got a lot of pent-up feelings and unused energy.

Earlier today, she clearly needed to blow off some steam. I took her outside to the park so she could sit in the grass and enjoy the fresh air. Apparently, the park must be swarming with Pokemon, because a crowd of seven teenage boys were out there catching them with their cellphones. The sight of these giddy teens and their Pokemon ecstasy was too much for Annette. She marched right up to them and let loose a barrage of angry Dachshund barks. The entire mob of Pokemon masters jumped in surprise and then fled the vicinity. I can only assume Annette either hates gamers, or she was letting them know that all Pokemon found in this park belong to her. Because the law of Dachshund property extends even into the public sector.

Whatever her reasoning was, she turned to me with a very smug look on her Dachshund face before squatting to pee in her now emptied park.

Sometimes, I stumble upon the most wonderful treasures at the thrift store. Although you could chalk it up to luck, I can’t help but feel like there are times that these treasures are there just for me. Last Sunday was one of those times. I had only planned to stop in for a quick minute to return some blouses I’d purchased on Friday. They were impulse buys and I hadn’t tried them on in the dressing room. Since I can’t just walk into a thrift store without giving the place a once over, I meandered to the back area where they have lamps. I was looking for a shade to decorate for our floor lamp but instead I found something far more unusual.

I found this…

I have been pining over a candlestick phone for quite awhile. Every time Detective Murdoch uses his in Murdoch Mysteries, I think about how much I’d prefer it to a smart phone. (Don’t try to reason with me! I have no desire to be practical.) At first, I wasn’t sure if it was actually a candlestick phone or just a fake one made into a lamp. When I went to pick it up it weighed a ton, which was a good sign. It didn’t take too much investigating to discover the words “Western Electric” stamped into the metal’s surface. It was real! And really hideous with all that gloppy gold paint on top.

I knew immediately that I had to buy it—for $5.99, no less—and return it to its former glory. (I had a glimmer of hope; just look at the ear piece and you can see the phone’s true color peeking through!) But how do you strip gold paint off a metal and Bakelite phone without killing every brain cell you have? I went with Citristrip for my toxic-chemical-of-choice. It is definitely less heinous, but still very strong smelling. I had to work outside because it gave me a terrible headache from the get-go.

It did not peel the paint off magically. It loosened it up and made it possible to scrub it off, but it wasn’t magical. It took me three hours, four steel wool soap pads, five tooth picks, six Q-tips, and two toothbrushes to remove all the gold paint. I was able to take the top apart and clean every part individually. This also allowed me to remove the remaining lamp pieces.

The finish beneath the paint has a gorgeous patina. I left a little gold paint around some of the text because it really highlighted the lettering in an attractive way.

I wiped the entire thing down with coconut oil and now it looks beautiful! I’ll buy some replacement cord, since the one it has is frayed and painted gold. I won’t be making any calls with it. But I feel compelled to take a stroll in the park with my phone like everyone else and pretend I’m taking a call. I can bring my typewriter along if I feel the need to text anyone 🙂

Last Saturday, I happened upon the most fantastic book I have ever uncovered in my many years of thrifting. The sheer weight of the volume was enough to guarantee that this old book would be a treasure trove of intrigue and information. The ornate cover read The Scientific American Cyclopedia of Receipts Notes and Queries and, inside, the book was filled with receipts (recipes) ranging from cosmetics to fireworks to every odd thing in between. For a mere $10, this book was mine, and it now resides on the nightstand for some light bedtime reading. It occurred to me that this 1892 volume is too marvelous not to share with everyone and that a weekly recipe from this book ought to be featured on our blog here!

Where else will you find recipes for arsenic lip balm or an ammonia baldness treatment? I’m sure you’ve wondered how to make violet colored fireworks or Victorian-era french soaps! What curious mind hasn’t? I will do my best to satiate your ravenous mind with knowledge that’s both frighteningly outmoded and surprisingly relevant!

Lets start with a treatment for acne-prone skin that your doctor probably hasn’t recommended you: lotion of acetate of lead. By the way, DON’T MAKE THIS. (There is my warning; I am no longer liable!).

Take of sugar of lead, 1/4 oz.; distilled or soft water, 1 pint; dissolve. Sometimes a little vinegar is added, a like quantity of water being omitted. Used in excoriations (I keep reading that as exorcisms), burns, sprains, contusions, etc.; also as an occasional cosmetic wash by persons troubled with eruptions.

If it wasn’t bad enough that your face was erupting, you are now dead from lead poisoning. This may be why they say “occasional”: no one lives long enough for the second application of this topical treatment.

Right now because of Chris’s evening job as a newspaper editor he has to find wifi by 6pm or he turns into a pumpkin… or rather he can’t get his stories assigned to his eager writers. This has been a challenge while we’ve been driving across the country this summer! There is only so much you can do to control your travel time. (Especially with all the necessary antique shop stops!)

We had been making pretty decent time on our way from Missouri to Chicago but mid way we stopped in Springfield to photograph family graves and that futile search ate up a couple of precious hours. (We stopped on the way back and did actually find the family plots.)

By the time we hit Coal City Illinois we were both grouchy and watching the clock with anxiety. It was nearly four O’clock and we were not going to make it to our place in Chicago in time for Chris to get to his news stories or for our host to let us in. A quick stop in at McDonald’s was really our only option. Chris could get the stories assigned early and then we could visit his Grandpa in Glenwood to avoid rush hour traffic going into Chicago and meet the host later that evening.

So we spot the magical wifi sharing arches in the distance and take the exit for Coal City. We get into the McDonalds and order a coffee because caffeine cures road trip grouchies and restores peace. Still the world of technology is not on our side as Chris’s Laptop battery is drained and we don’t have a nearby plug-in anywhere in sight. It was in this moment that everyone in the restaurant seems to take notice of us and our plight. Two older gentlemen tell Chris that the plug-in is in the corner booth which is currently occupied by a woman talking on her cell phone. They tell him to go over and plug in his computer because she wouldn’t mind.

Not wanting to invade her booth Chris waits patiently for the woman to get off her phone so he can ask her. Two random older ladies at another booth encourage Chris to just go ahead and use the outlet. The lady in the booth acknowledges Chris, even while still chatting on her phone, smiled, and then gave up her place so we could sit there. Everyone in the restaurant seems pleased that order is restored and they go back to their conversations and happy meals.

Maybe it was just the happy caffeine flooding through my veins but I felt touched by everyone’s concern. They had no reason to notice or care but for some reason they did.

On the way out of Utah, we spotted a sign for In-N-Out Burger in the distance. Because of the restaurant’s almost mythical hype from Californian friends, we figured this would give us a great chance to finally try one.

“Two double-double cheeseburgers, an order of fries, and a vanilla shake.” The woman taking the order was just as chipper as the guy we had encountered in Twin Falls’ Chick-Fil-A. She told me, “I’ll bring that right out”, and I initially thought of it as a car-hopping place like Culver’s, so I pulled forward to find a parking spot. Sarah yelled at me, “Hey! What about the food!” I had to back up quickly, just before the lady started thinking I was nuts, but it turned out okay. We got the burgers.

We parked and ate at one of the nearby picnic tables, chatting and listening to seagulls fly overhead. It was definitely better than a typical fast food burger; a lot fresher, with more high-quality ingredients. Really just a good old-fashioned burger. And look: they are NOT smashed!

An odd thing about Salt Lake City is the fact that the highways seem to be built so that the landmark from which the city derives its very name – the Salt Lake – is always just beyond one’s view. Those who constructed the roads thought of everything possible to obstruct the view at every single turn. Once you think you’re about to catch a great glimpse of the lake, it’s suddenly blocked by another extremely high road barrier. This led both of us to conclude that the Great Salt Lake is really nothing to get too excited about. To borrow some words from Karl Pilkington, it’s just the Alright Salt Lake.

At this point in such a long journey, we just didn’t feel like pushing ourselves to drive all the way to Colorado Springs that night, so we made a stop in Grand Junction.

The motel we booked, the Columbine, had high ratings for being clean. As we started getting closer to the motel, though, we were both feeling a little more worried as the nicer parts of town started falling behind and the more run-down parts were in front of us. We kept hoping that suddenly, we would find ourselves in some secret pocket of town with unexpectedly nice looking buildings. No luck. Nestled alongside all the other older strip motel accommodations was the Columbine Motel.

Mostly because of its age, the Columbine wasn’t pretty to look at from the outside, so we were bracing ourselves for a refusal of the room if need be. Still, I made Sarah promise to at least take a look at the room before we thought of searching for a new place.

We picked up a key, walked along the parking lot to a room down at the end, and opened the door: Holy cow! This place was spotless and completely decked out.

We ordered pizza in and spent a good, long night watching some TV for the first time on the entire trip. We don’t have a cable subscription at home, but seeing a few broadcast shows didn’t make us miss it. There’s still nothing good on!

We slept in a bit the next morning and, after a quick breakfast, we were back onto the highway heading home.

On the way out, it was the Eisenhower Tunnel that we’d passed through, but going this direction, it was the Johnson Tunnel. For some reason, everyone that morning decided to drive like a crazy person and the descent out of the tunnel was a bit tense. Steep downgrades and bad drivers make for a terrible combination. Alas: we survived the Tunnel of Doom and the steep mountainside of terror. Our reward was some much-needed coffee! Sadly, there were no cute roadside coffee stands, because we were not in Oregon anymore.

Georgetown was on our route home, so we thought it would be fun to get lunch there and browse around for antiques. It was either International Unfriendly Day or the shopkeepers of Georgetown didn’t like the look of us. It might have just been a fluke if we only encountered two unfriendly shopkeepers, but we met four grumpy merchants and walked out of a restaurant after being ignored. The waitress was too busy watching her wonderful TV to seat us. But that’s okay; the prices on their menu were far too overpriced!

Just a little further down the highway is Idaho Springs. There, we actually did encounter friendly people and lots of quirky shops. If you ever find yourself tooling through the mountains, be sure to stop in Idaho Springs for some shopping and lunch at Two Brothers Deli. From the free parking lot nearby, too, you get a great view of the waterfall. The town was bustling with people while we were there, which is always a good sign.

We were considerably hungry, so we just based our choice off of the smell drifting from this particular deli. Our nostrils did not betray us; Two Brothers is a fantastic deli! The staff was friendly and the restaurant had a sunny ambiance. They must be popular, because as soon as we placed our order, a large crowd of people flooded the place and there was a line to the door.

We each ordered their sandwich “The Many Ways to Reuben” with a different meat and bread choice, one with corned beef and the other with pastrami. Then sides of slaw with pickle spears. The Reubens were each topped with Swiss cheese, housemade sauerkraut, and a sun-dried tomato Russian dressing.

We also split a bowl of pork green chili soup, which was as good as it looks in this photo.

We still had just enough time to check out Idaho Springs Treasures. Don’t miss this shop! The place was filled with an array of antiques, mineral samples, and glassware; enough things to keep anyone rooting around for quite awhile. The proprietor is a full-fledged mountain man gold panner, full grizzly beard and all. He was friendly, as was the woman running the place with him. And we didn’t leave the shop empty-handed either. With the ocean still on her mind, Sarah was thrilled to find a bottle of sperm whale sewing machine oil and a 1940’s mini souvenir flip book from the Sea Lion Caves in Oregon. Reluctantly, I had to pull Sarah away so we could get back on the road, but I promised that we would take a day trip back to Idaho Springs.

We took the scenic country route along Highway 85 to avoid the main highway’s rush hour traffic. Just little towns, farms, and some cows grazing.

After eleven days away, we were home at last. We left our car in the garage a little reluctantly, as there was something sad about not having another destination to drive to the next morning. Of course, we were looking forward to our own bed and bathroom, but we were both secretly ready to start planning our next adventure.

It was really just by chance that I spotted the flyer for Body Worlds: Animal Inside Out while we were checking out of our hotel in Ogden, Utah (on our way out to Portland). This exhibit was one that I had been pining to see for a long time, as it has only been on display in a handful of cities in the U.S. We had been discussing what we might like to do on the trip back through Utah. Originally, we thought maybe we’d check out the zoo, but this time around, these monstrous plasticized animals beat out the living, breathing ones at any zoo. This extraordinary exhibit is only going to be in Salt Lake City temporarily before it heads back to Europe.

The day of our visit coincided with an art festival being held outside of the Leonardo museum. We had bought our tickets ahead of time because the website claimed the lines would be long and one would have to be there for a specifically chosen day and time. On this occasion, though, the lines were non-existent and the lady running the entrance told us we could come and go from the exhibit whenever we liked. The rest of the art museum was closed, so the “free day” included with the festival really just meant you didn’t have to pay to enter the museum. The Body Worlds exhibit was also discounted for the event.

Going through the exhibit is a spectacular journey because the types of animals and the manner in which they’re displayed are progressively changing in size from small to large, becoming more and more intricate. The first several specimens, for instance, are skeletons. But then you begin to see more plasticized organs and even some fur. I’m sure some of you are curious as to what plastination is, so here is a link to the exhibit’s website: http://www.bodyworlds.com/en/plastination/plastination_process.html

One nice thing about the exhibit is that none of the animals were killed; they were all from zoos or parks. These animals were not harvested, but rather preserved. The comparative anatomy on display here was eye-opening. Where else can you compare the stomach of a caribou to that of a human? Or the brain mass of a giraffe to that of a cat? No organ or animal group went unexplored in Body Worlds.

The caribou were captured in action, galloping high in the air. Every muscle was taut and the sight could be taken in from every angle. Of all the animals on display, I think the caribou were one of our favorites.

This little lamb was hanging out on his own woolly fur coat. I appreciated the subtle humor here! It might seem surprising to some, but nothing here was gross or terrifying. I saw little kids and grandparents alike completely engrossed in the displays.

The animals with plasticized blood vessels were an intricate woven mass of arteries and veins dyed a startling red.

Many of the animals still had fur around their face and feet, a feature that made them appear strangely adorable. The more powerful muscles of some of the larger animals, like this bull I’m standing next to, were just astounding!

The full-sized giraffe was by far the tallest of all the creatures and it stood beside the beautifully sliced “giraffe mobile” (below). It was hard to wrap one’s mind around how anyone managed to plasticize and slice these giant animals into such thin sections.

The visual presentation of all the animals revealed a strangely artistic and beautiful side to anatomy. It isn’t very often that one is able to remark on the beauty of the guts of a lion. Going far beyond what taxidermy is able to do, plastination shows the intricacies of an animal’s actual inner workings. This is true inner beauty!

There were several ostriches on display. One was the skeleton, one was the blood vessels, and then there was this lovely fellow showing off his muscular build and fancy plumage.

Anyone who has known me for any amount of time knows that I have a strange attachment to camels. I couldn’t wait to see this magnificent beast in all his gutsy glory! I had a good laugh watching a little girl and her dad try to figure out why this giraffe had three heads. At some point, it clicked in everyone’s head that this fellow had his head split in three to show all the layers of skull and tissue. It makes for a freaky and breathtaking finale to this exhibit. Of course, little Jr. was equally as remarkable as the big guy:

Due to the United States’ laws on endangered species, a few animals were not brought over from Europe for this show. The elephant, the gorilla, and the grizzly bear all had to be left behind across the ocean. The exhibitors did, however, include a giant photocopy of a slice of the elephant. It was hung and illuminated on the wall just beside the exit. From the look of the ears and the relatively small size, I’m going to say it was a young Asian elephant. I personally would have loved to have seen both the gorilla and the elephant in person. I suppose Chris and I will have to catch the show in Europe some day!

Multnomah Falls in Oregon, just off the Columbia River Highway, is definitely worth getting out of your car and walking up to. There’s a pedestrian underpass that allows people to cross to the other side of the road, where there’s the stunning sight of the waterfall and the Multnomah Falls Historic Lodge. I could go on and on about how majestic Multnomah Falls is, or I could just let these photos speak for themselves:

The Lodge doesn’t offer overnight stays, but they do have a restaurant, visitor center, and gift shop. You can get maps for the trails here and stop in for Eggs Benedict after your hike. They even host weddings there at the Falls.

It was nice to see the Columbia River at sunset when we first arrived at Portland, and then to be able to see it illuminated in a slightly different way on the morning we took off. We were sad saying goodbye to the river, to the green forests, and even to the humidity. Leaving the river meant we were officially heading out of Oregon. From the point that one leave the river until reaching the border of Idaho, the scenery rapidly become more and more similar to Idaho’s farmland. We said our goodbyes to Oregon as we passed the “Come Back Soon” sign. We will, Oregon. We will.

Just crossing over the Oregon-Idaho border, I mentioned to Chris how it smelled so much like cooking french fries. And then we noticed the Ore-Ida factory just out our window. Can you imagine working there? You would come home from work smelling like fries everyday. Until this trip, I didn’t realize the name “Ore-Ida” had to do with the fact that they are located between the two states. That is a giant steam cloud of french fry emissions coming from the factory:

We passed through a lot of different small towns in Idaho along the highway. One of them – Bliss, Idaho – was the least blissful town we encountered. A place that looked all but abandoned, so we were glad we had no plans to stay there. There were hotels that looked dilapidated, but were still offering rooms for $48 a night. Their convenience store was even called “Stinker.”

Our destination for the day was Twin Falls. The city boasts several major waterfalls, but Idaho is so flat that we started to wonder where in the state these “waterfalls” could even be falling from. Then, just as we were entering Twin Falls, it was as though the Earth around us completely fell away, and there was a canyon on each side of us. The Snake River Canyon is wild! It was already sunset as we were coming in, so I was racing against time to get any photos of the impressive canyon. I did manage to capture the sunset over the canyon:

While we were in Oregon, we had booked our hotel for the one night we planned to spend in Twin Falls. We were a little worried that the motel might really just be a dump or a scam. The photos looked way too nice and polished, like they were stock images. When we arrived, I waited in the car while Chris investigated. Going inside, he told me, it felt more like a slick doctor’s office than a hotel/motel lobby. They had a big glass tray of chocolate chip cookies for each guest who signed in to take. The lady at the counter was the same one in the photos online.

She was there, just like in the picture, smiling at the counter and offering cookies to everyone who was checking in!

This was our room for the night. You can see the bedroom reflected in the mirror. The room was exactly like the photos, too! Unbelievably clean and with really chic decorations. They called it a “boutique” style motel and I can understand why. We felt as though we were in an upscale apartment with all the trendy boutique furniture. Blue Lakes Inn is the place to stay in Twin Falls. It is everything one could want in a motel room and it is extremely affordable. They did a brilliant job in fixing this place up!

It was already late so we grabbed a bite a Chick-fil-A. Neither of us had ever eaten at one and we weren’t impressed. What a boring menu to pick from! The sandwiches were mediocre at best and the sauces were extremely sweet and artificial tasting. The guy at the counter was frighteningly chipper and insisted on giving us way more sauces than we wanted. More than once, he exclaimed, “I love my job!” When we asked about the taste of the sauces, he began waxing poetic about each of them as though they were beyond human description. He might have been butt-kissing his manager, he was new on the job, or we just stepped into the Twilight Zone somewhere in Idaho. I appreciate friendly service, but there is a fine line between friendly and Woah! Take it down a few notches, you psychopath!

Before heading to downtown Portland for a Friday of antique and vintage shopping, we stopped into Baker and Spice on Capitol Highway, which was just down the road from our guest house. We sat in a cozy corner with café au laits, a chocolate croissant, and a savory scone. It was pretty well packed inside, with the friendly feel of a local community hub. This was the one day we had encountered all week in Portland where the sky was overcast and threatening lots of rain, so it made for the perfect time to explore more indoor shops.

We had a list of recommended vintage ones to check out. We didn’t make it to all of them, but of the handful we did check out, our favorites were Vintage Vendors (2800 NE Sandy Blvd) and House of Vintage (3315 SE Hawthorne Blvd).

House of Vintage is huge and they have a ton of clothing and kitschy retro goods to rifle through. It really started to pour down while we were inside, so we took our time and waited out the rain by searching for treasures. Somehow, we managed not to find anything that we absolutely had to take home with us. I think that on this vintage shopping trip, we were both looking for very particular pieces.

Vintage Vendors had more actual antiques in their shop. The store is divided up into individual vendors’ sections, so the prices vary from one area to another. One booth had a vintage banana crate with bold graphics, something that would have made an awesome coffee table (we have a banana crate in our bathroom at home, which we turned into a stand for towels and toiletries).

In total, we made a pretty full morning and afternoon by stopping into about five different shops. We didn’t make it to Antique Alley, Red Light Clothing, or Naked City. Those will have to wait until the next time we are back in Portland. Another one we stopped into, Hollywood Vintage, really had more costumes than vintage, but their selection of eyeglasses was impressive. I saw Sarah admiring a few pairs of 1920s spectacles. Suddenly, she is very interested in getting herself some reading glasses!

In our minds, there was only one place to go to for lunch on our last day in Portland: the legendary Cartopia! Throughout this entire trip, I was guilty of taking every opportunity I had to stop at any food cart that caught my eye. I especially wasn’t going to miss out on eating here since this particular lot’s days are numbered (at least for the time being; hopefully, things work out). It was early afternoon and only half of the Cartopia food trucks were open; still, they were exactly the ones we had been craving. First, we ordered a crepe with plantains, dulce de leche, rum, and butter from Perierra Crêperie. They made it fresh right when we ordered, and it was delicious!

Our second course was an amped-up peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich from PBJ’s Grilled. The Hot Hood sammies have peanut butter, bacon, jalapeños, and cherries, all between two buttery, grilled slices of challah bread. It shouldn’t have been that good, but it was. It was incredible. The photos are making us hungry even as we write this:

After lunch, Sarah and I made a pilgrimage to Fred Meyer, which turned out to be more of a mall-sized Walmart than a regular grocery store. We picked up some road trip food, Tillamook yogurts, a variety of chocolate bars, and salmon chowder for dinner. We were both starting to feel melancholy about leaving in the morning.

The rest of the evening we packed everything, washed our stinky beach finds, and took a fairly long, peaceful walk around our immediate neighborhood and the surrounding ones. People always talk about how a long trip makes one eager to get back home to a normal routine. But this trip had the complete opposite effect. Both of us were still eager to explore more of Oregon and we felt bummed that we had run out of days. The only consolation we had was that we were taking three days to get home instead of two, which meant that we could have longer, more interesting stops.